Grace nodded. “You’re right, Tricia. I truly wanted to help Pixie make a better life for herself. But it frightens me that she took it upon herself to insulate me when William needed me most.”
“Mr. Everett was asleep when I left, but I know he’d feel so much better if he awoke to find you holding his hand. I’d be glad to drive you to the hospital.”
“Oh, yes, please,” Grace said and stood. “Can you ever forgive me for being such an old fool?”
“Grace, your generosity is legendary. I think you just lost sight of who you love the most and how the opportunity to indulge that generosity came to you.”
Grace shook her head sadly. “William is more important to me than anything else on this earth. And you’re right. I did lose sight of that. It will never happen again.” She let out a long sigh, and her eyes again were heavy with tears. “Please-please take me to the hospital. I don’t think I could safely drive there by myself.”
“Of course,” Tricia said, and gratefully accepted the hug Grace offered.
“Yow!” Miss Marple interrupted and Grace pulled back from the embrace to laugh. Although weak, Tricia could tell it was heartfelt.
“Just give me a couple of minutes to feed my cat, and then we’ll be on our way. I’m afraid she’s quite overdue.”
“Of course,” Grace said.
Tricia headed to the back of the shop and the stairs to her loft with Miss Marple galloping behind her. True to her word, Tricia returned to the store a few minutes later and found a much more graceful Grace waiting for her. “Let’s go,” she said, and started for the door. But then she paused. “Oh dear. If I drive you to the hospital, you’ll be stranded.”
“Oh, that’s right,” Grace agreed.
“Hold on,” Tricia said, and retrieved the cell phone from her pocket. She punched in the code for Angelica’s loft landline.
“What’s up, Trish?” Angelica answered.
“I need a favor…”
Half an hour later, Tricia stood behind the hospital’s double doors, staring through the glass to the driveway. Angelica’s car pulled up and Tricia exited the building and hopped into the passenger seat.
“Grace told me to thank you and give you a give hug,” Tricia said.
Angelica didn’t answer but took her foot off the brake and let the car roll forward, heading toward the exit. She sniffed a few times, and Sarge, who was in the backseat on one of his travel beds, whimpered.
“What’s wrong?” Tricia asked, concerned. “When I spoke to you last, you sounded so chipper.”
“Oh, Trish-the absolute worst thing in the world has happened,” Angelica said, and Tricia could hear the tears in her voice.
“Worse than burning down a TV station?”
“Yes! Somebody uploaded a video of my cooking demonstration to the Internet. The whole fiasco is on YouTube! I’m publicly humiliated. There’s already been more than five thousand views since it went up at lunchtime.” She looked both ways, then pulled into traffic.
“Five thousand,” Tricia echoed.
“And the comments…they’re just terrible. They make fun of me. What I’m wearing. My cooking technique.”
“Are all the comments bad?”
“Well…not all of them. But enough to make sure no other bookstore, radio, or TV station will ever again host me.”
“I think you’re being far too hard on yourself,” Tricia said, not sure if that was the truth. After all, what did she know about these things?
“Oh, and look who’s talking. Your world fell apart and you were humiliated when Christopher left you, and from what appears to be no fault of your own.”
Appears to be? Tricia fumed, astounded by Angelica’s assessment. “What has all this got to do with that video?”
“It’s just that…my life was finally straightening out. I was a successful businesswoman. I was going to be the next Paula Deen, and now…now my writing career is over. People will be afraid to eat at Booked for Lunch for fear the place will erupt in flames. And-”
“Calm down. This is not the end of your world.”
“So you say.”
It was definitely time for a change of subject. “Did Bob ever track you down this afternoon?”
“What? No. But he left me plenty of voice mails. He’s absolutely livid that I bought into the Sheer Comfort Inn.”
“Is that why you sounded so chipper when I called earlier?”
That brought half a smile to Angelica’s face. “Maybe. But honestly, between Bob and that video, tomorrow I’m calling my providers to have all my phone numbers changed.”
“Has anyone called to talk about the video?”
“Not yet, but it’s inevitable. I checked my e-mail just before I left, and I’d reached the maximum my inbox could hold. They’ve all got subject lines that say Fire or something similar.”
“Are they all bad?”
“Who knows? I’m going to delete them all-sight unseen.”
Tricia frowned. “Is that wise?”
“It’s self-preservation.”
Angelica pulled into her usual spot in the municipal parking lot and cut the engine.
“Do you want to come up to my place for a glass of wine and unwind before you have to face your computer?” Tricia asked.
Angelica sighed dramatically and shook her head. “Thank you, but no. Miss Marple doesn’t like Sarge, and I don’t want his little ego to be crushed. I’ve suffered enough of that today for both of us.” It was just as well. Tricia had forgotten that she hadn’t replenished her wine cellar.
They got out of the car, with Angelica retrieving her dog from the backseat. She clipped Sarge’s leash onto his collar and set the dog on the ground, and then the three of them headed for the sidewalk along Main Street.
“Shouldn’t you take Sarge to the park before you turn in for the night?” Tricia asked.
“I’ll take him out in the alley after we get inside.”
“Don’t you ever feel vulnerable doing that? It’s not well lit.”
“Vulnerable? Here in Stoneham? Never,” Angelica declared.
The streetlamps shed scant light on this gloomy evening. No moonlight brightened the night sky, which seemed even devoid of stars. Their footsteps echoed faintly as they walked past the Patisserie.
As they approached the Have a Heart bookshop, a figure jumped out of the space between it and the bakery. Startled, Tricia grabbed Angelica’s arm as Sarge exploded into shrieks of frenzied barks, tugging at the leash with the ferocity of a pit bull.
“Call off that animal,” said a male voice they instantly recognized.
Tricia’s anxiety immediately evaporated. “Bob, what do you think you’re doing, trying to scare us like that?”
“I want answers-and not from you, Tricia. Go home.”
“And leave my sister alone with an angry man? No way!” she declared.
“I have Sarge to protect me,” Angelica yelled over Sarge’s barking.
“Shut up!” Bob hollered.
Again Sarge lunged at him, but Angelica held him back. “What is your problem, Bob?” she demanded.
“You! You betrayed me.”
“Oh, and you think sleeping with that little tramp wasn’t a betrayal to me?” she countered.
“I told you, I’m not even sure I did sleep with her. I was drunk.”
“And that’s supposed to reassure me?” Angelica cried.
Tricia wished she were elsewhere-but she wasn’t about to leave her sister alone on a dark street with this nutcase. Besides, Sarge’s barking was beginning to get to her, too.
As though Angelica could read her mind, she tugged on the dog’s leash and said, “Shush.” The barking stopped.
“Just tell me why?” Bob said, and Tricia was sure his voice cracked on the last word.